Neon Lights and Blue Waterfalls
by Starlit Serenade
Summary: Alaska DeCeline was everything but social. Smart, studious, and a total bookworm, but definitely not tagged as the talkative, get-to-know-ya type. To make an effort to enlighten her, her mother drags her to a new town, where she meets a variety of people who show her life outside of turning pages. And though he gets under her skin, the most unlikely person ever shows her the world.
1. And on the First Day

_I wont lie when I tell you I've basically decided to trash my other stories. I will leave them up, of course, for your enjoyment. I just felt totally insecure about them and wasnt sure how I would go about fixing them because I felt like I had outgrown them (in terms of writing prowess and style)._

_So here is a new story I decided to start writing. Yes, its another high school fanfic. Im obsessed with those. But honestly, Ive enjoyed writing it so far. Ill probably post another chapter super soon, since i can carry a flash drive around to continue typing and editing it. Anyhow, here is the first chapter to what i hope will be a much more successful story. _

_Oh, and by the way, this story is also on Quotev, under the auther Jade. That account is mine as well. I just miss the way it felt to post something on FanFiction because they always felt more successful and appreciated here. I think I'll quit yammering now. XD _

_Enjoy._

_Starlit_

**Chapter One: And on the First Day…**

It seems I always do the best thinking in the shower. Maybe it's something about the steam, or the progressive heat, or the water droplets massaging my back, but I always wound up having my most outrageous revelations when shampooing my hair and all that jazz. This particular morning, however, I wasn't pondering some life altering choice, or the possibility of organisms on other planets, or even what benefits would improve if we shipped all of the immoral idiots to a special prison on an island where we would promote the survival of the fittest and natural selection.

No, my most taxing and totally ridiculous revelation was, for once, that of a random school girl; how in hell I would survive the first day at a brand new high school.

It may not surprise most people when a girl contemplates what she will wear, how will she act, and who she will impersonate to impress her peers. But me being…well, me, it was almost unheard of. Back when I lived in Destiny, I wasn't known for my looks. It wasn't like I was unattractive-I know when I tried I could look decent. I was just buried in my books, studying for my exams, and ignoring society. A straight A student, President of Student Council, blah blah blah. I didn't have many friends, and when it came to attending social events, I was forced into being an awkward penguin with two left feet and the conversational skills of a three year old.

I didn't find myself fit for being around people.

My mother, however, sought a different route for me. She was always a free spirit; one day she was surfing the beach, and the next she was playing with crystals and practicing magic. She sought a better opportunity for me socially, so I was forced to uproot myself from my stable, comfortable lifestyle and moved to the quaint, populated beach of Twilight Town, where I would be encouraged my said mother to spread my wings and experience more in life than just books.

So in my current situation, it was safe to say that for once, judging everything I was going to do would be the correct and understandable decision. I was desperate to blend in, but when your mom spends money on clothes and eggs you to improve your social agenda, you just cant help but to be dominated by the curiosity of the "other world". That was my situation.

Turning the shower head off, I bit my lip nervously. Today was the day; Summer vacation ended last night for the teens of Twilight Town, and today marked the first attempt of being 'the New Me'.

It was terrifying.

I wasn't ever even sure of what to do with my hair, and since I normally took showers in the morning my mom came to the rescue. Along my cabinet shelf was an assortment of care products, from Paopu Essences to little bottles with names I couldn't pronounce. Grabbing a can of mousse, I scrunched the foamy substance into my hair, and pinned my bangs to the side as a finishing touch. My long, partially wet brunette curls flowed around my bare shoulders as I stared into the mirror.

'_Fair enough,'_ I thought. This was as good as it was going to get.

Pastel dominated my closet, so I pulled out light denim straight legged jeans, a tank and a butterfly style shirt. It wasn't like I knew how to really put a spectacular, eye catching outfit together-fashion wasn't one of my pros. So I went with the only thing a drowning, socially deprived girl would go with. Instinct. Pulling the ensemble on, I tossed my plain black pack over one of my shoulders, grabbing my lunch sack with my free hand. I was as ready as I would ever be.

My mother was down stairs, painting a mural on the wall of one of the rooms in the two story house. When I trampled down the stairway, she called out to me from her perch on her ladder.

"Alaska! Quick-should I do a tie-dye effect or a rainbow burst?"

Rolling my eyes, I hiked the pack higher on my shoulder, shouting back, "What's the difference?"

Exasperatedly, she hollered, "Everything's the difference!"

"Then…do the burst!"

I grabbed my house key, shouting a goodbye through the door as I slammed it shut. Nothing good could come of her being artistic on the wall of a house, but there was nothing to stop her from doing whatever she wanted. I guess that's one of the reasons I admired my mother so much. Her independence was commendable, her feisty disposition non-refutable. And with those thoughts in mind, I was off, kicking dirt and trekking up to the sidewalks from the beach house. I was marching further away from safety, and into the devastating arms of nervous disaster and post-traumatic stress that would be high school.

Keeping in mind that I was a typical 'nerd', my schedule consisted of numerous Honors and Advanced Placement classes. In that prospect, I wouldn't be one with the rest of my peers because of my advanced intelligence. Not to brag on it, of course. I still had the social appeal of a sloth.

So when I stepped through the doors of first periods AP Literature class, I wasn't sure what I was expecting. Maybe a few kids with glasses, pushing them higher on their faces while they talked about the works of Langston Hughs, or George Orwell. Or perhaps complete silence, everyone leaning over their desks deep in thought, piecing together poetry to impress their teacher on the first day of classes.

None the less, what I got was certainly not what I expected. Opening the door to the classroom labeled AP Lit-3, I found myself nearly floored by a speeding soccer ball as it passed just inches from the side of my face. Letting out a yelp, I dodged it at the last moment as somebody in the room shouted for me to 'watch out'.

I watched, sure enough. The black and white ball bounced around on the floor in front of me, and finally seized its movement by one of the far walls across the hallway. I stared at the object, calculating the mass of it by its looks, and determined almost immediately that I had just avoided my prominent death.

"Are you alright? I am sooo sorry!"

Huh? I turned to face a pair of spectacular blue eyes, full of warmth and worry, directed at yours truly. As he pushed his spiky blond locks out of his face, I opened my mouth to speak, squeaking instead. Embarrassed, I promptly closed my mouth and nodded. His cerulean blue eyes had startled me, uncharacteristically, and feeling uncomfortable, I side stepped him and continued to scurry into the room and nab a seat in the middle, by the window of the class room. I was willing to socialize with another girl, but boys were a whole new species to me. Definitely not ready for that.

Must be level 10 to unlock this feature. Im a level 0.5.

He retrieved his soccer ball and dribbled it back into the class room on his knee as another student walked in.

"Still on the soccer kick, eh Roxas?" The tall red head, also with spiky hair, lightly smacked the blond in the back of the head, who bounced the ball onto his hand and tucked it under his arm as he rubbed the back of his head with his other hand.

"Ouch! Geez Axel, could you be a little nicer?" He quipped.

The red head, "Axel", grinned cheekily. "Of course I could. I just choose not to."

"Take your seats, boys."

A teacher had abruptly appeared behind them, causing the two to jump and scramble for their seats. A short, dark haired man with a huge book in his hand took his seat at the front of the classroom, eying all of the students. I knew looks like that. He was surveying us all, depicting who he thought would survive his class. He was going to be a difficult teacher, and I was immediately fascinated with the prospect of the class. The blond boy with the beautiful eyes sat down-eek!-right next to me, and the red head behind him. Trough my peripheral, I got a better look at him. He was slender, lean but not muscular. Definitely the body type of a soccer jock. His hair wasn't just blond, it was a dirty blond, sandy color that most girls would spend loads of munny trying to get. It looked like his favorite two colors were black and white, complete with a checkered wristband. He was pale and serene, his face open and his eyes inviting. Someone who seemed like he would be a great friend to have.

Of course, him being a jock he was probably a total jerk.

"Two o'clock, bro," the red head whispered to him. The hell?

Roxas' eyes lightened a shade, and he turned his head to look at me. That was when I realized I wasn't being secretive about my dynamic study of him. I jolted, my face hot, and I quickly averted my eyes from disaster. What the heck was the matter with me? This was some stupid boy who probably pretended to be nice until he could dig up dirt on someone. And I was being girly and kind of stupid, just because his eyes were my favorite color.

Well, it wasn't gonna happen. Not me, anyways. I had enough class to not get trapped in that crap. I blinked, feeling the heat dicipate from my face as I zeroed in on my first professors lesson.

I ignored the fact that to my right, a pair of crystal blue eyes bore into me, probably trying to snake its way into my soul.


	2. Judgment, Books and People

**Chapter Two: Judgement, Books and People**

**Roxas' POV:**

Axel may have had me acknowledge the new girl who sat next to me, but I really wish he hadn't. I think I could have gone my entire life without seeing the intense stare she had given me. She was a cute girl, that was for certain, but regardless of how beautiful any girl could be, to have a glare like that was almost inhuman. I know I had nearly hit her with a soccer ball, but damn…

I knew what she was doing, though. I recognized the glint in her eyes. She was judging me. Calculating me. Creating an overview-profile of who I was. People had given me similar looks before, but not as cold as hers. It wasn't fair, but I would have supposed it was understandable. She obviously wasn't the social type. Deep inside, she was probably more terrified about this place than anything else.

And there I go calculating her.

Damn.

I turned back towards the front and rested my chin in the palm of my hand, focusing on what professor Zexion was quoting on the overhead. It was going to be another boring year of school. Sometimes life seemed like this was what it was all about- go to school, make a good grade, go to soccer practice, eat, sleep, and repeat, with the occasional soccer game. I was currently working on a scholarship to get into Twi-U, because other wise I wouldn't be able to go to university. Performing well was the only thing that charged my life, aside from my friends and their crazy antics. But success was my prior motivation.

So I did what any good, grade driven kid would do. Pushed away the distractions (i.e. the hateful, cold glare) and focus on my school work. Who needed to befriend a stuck up Miss Priss anyways?

**Alaska's POV:**

Before I knew it, the bell had tolled for the end of first class. I had become absorbed into Professor Zexion's lesson, too intensely moved by his definition of literature and its impact on society that the piercing sound had startled me. Collecting myself and retrieving my notebook, pack and pencil, I examined the schedule map I had pulled out of my pocket. Oddly enough, my second class would be some sort of study hall in the schools library. But what on earth would I study?

My immediate thought when I realized I didn't have homework to do in study hall was that I was thankful it was in a library. Books were secluded, personal, and interventional. Most anything I know came from flipping the pages of a memoir, an article, or a novel. I based my entire wellbeing after the characters in books I had fallen in love with. That probably wasn't exactly healthy, but when you grew up without friends, what else did you have to resort to?

So off to the library I went, with my elementary designed map, to view the entire database system of Twi-Highs hopefully massive library. I wasn't disappointed when I arrived. There they were; the hushed voices. The sounds of people typing and pages swishing as people devoured the contents. And there were books. Rows and rows of books piled and filed high up to the ceiling. I wasn't sure I had ever seen so many before, but it made my heart leap out of my chest. I relaxed. My earlier tension had been absorbed, replaced by desire. Desire to read every single one of the bound pages in this library.

I quickly signed my name in, scurrying to toss my stuff into an empty pod and turned to face the book cases before me. The question was, where would I start? I hadn't been so excited in a long time, and I was eager to dive right in.

After surveying the categories of the shelves around me, I decided to start with the books lodged in the very back of the library and work my way up to the front by the double doors, taking it row by row. My finger tips ran across the bound covers of what felt like a thousand books in each row. I was ecstatic, scouring across each of the covers, looking for the book that would speak to me.

And that was when I saw it. The spine of the book was huge, and embedded with gorgeous gold swirls and scriptures. I had stumbled into the artistry section of the library, and the books there were dusty and gritty, seeming as though they had been untouched for years until my fingers grazed across them. I turned to read the front cover, and found the title in the same elegant scripture as the spine label.

"_Elements of Magika_, Volume One," I read aloud. Interesting.

Magic had never intrigued me, to be bluntly honest. I was a fan of fairy tales, but magic had been a tactic I was never willing to try. I thought of it as dangerous. My mother had attempted to learn magic, in her ventures to find herself. Like every other hobby she decided to pick up, she finished half of her learning and picked up some other odd talent to try out. Unlike her, whenever I took on a skill, I would become crazy about trying to perfect it. So what if I tried…

I clamped my mouth at the thought. Me, a wielder of magic and a conjurer of sorcery? It was practically unheard of, in terms of who I was. Frankly, I was incredibly tempted to just slip the book back on the shelf and pretend I hadn't touched it. But I had already started thinking, my mind reeling with the effort to shut down my imagination. How 'cool' would be if I could do something like that? It would be different to practice magic in a town where talent was few in number and highly commendable. It could even be an answer to a way to open up to making friends and cracking my personal shell.

The same shell that I was perfectly okay with being stuck in, as far as I was concerned, but my mother didn't share the same view point about it.

"_You have to understand why I want us to move, Ala." _

_She pleaded with me, clasping her hands together and continued to beg me to understand her disposition. I crossed my arms, unwilling to budge from my own position. I refused the idea ever since she had brought it up. But now she had bought tickets, hired moving vans and rented out our home, all in the course of one day. _

_It was too much for me to handle, and too much for her to throw at me all at once. She kept saying things about how the Islands hurt and trapped me, and all she wanted was for me to be free, and express myself. But what about what I wanted? I wanted to disappear. Go off the radar. Moving wasn't disappearing-it was worse. _

"_How many times have you come home bruised, Ala?" _

_She had hit on a soft spot with her words. Being a book worm wasn't always a good thing, after all. People would follow me around like they were my shadows. I ate lunch most days by a tree right outside of school grounds where people wouldn't mess with me. I would come home with messy clothes on rainy days because people felt the need to shove me into the mud while they pretended not to acknowledge my existence. Gym was the worst. We would practice archery, but the arrows would somehow always find a way to skid through the air and stab my backpack or damage a book. Kids made points during soccer to use me as a fence post and kick the black and white blur straight towards my head. They would call it an accident. _

_It sucked. But it was never nearly as bad for me as it was for my mother. She argued all the time that I never tried to make friends, and that I had divided myself from the world, and that I was unhealthy. So one say, she decided to fix me. And by fix me, she decided to move to Twilight Town, where I would HAVE to make friends, and HAVE to participate in life. Its what the Doc told her she should do. _

_Eventually, I just gave up and decided, screw it. So I sighed and slumped to the floor of my empty room. "Fine. You win."_

Remembering all of a sudden where I was, I snapped out of my shock. Snatching the book close to my chest, I made my split decision. I had a plan, and though it wasn't fool proof, or totally spectacular, it was a plan and it was bound to be worthy of trying.

After all, the Doc had given me a list of the 'healthy aspects in life' I would need to look for as I ventured into the realm of the normal teenager. A hobby was one, along with a bunch of other things about how to emotionally tolerate people and which pills to take when I felt however way on a certain day. It got confusing, but a hobby was a great place to start.

Checking the book out at the front desk, I sat down in the booth I had tossed my stuff into and opened the cover to the first chapter.

The runes were prominent-the first chapter was all about deciphering them and distinguishing the gentle code of how to use them. Childs play, really. I flipped around, getting an overview of the rest of the book. It reminded me a little of the book my mother had used to learn with. The second through seventh chapters were description chapters about each of the seven special elements; Fire, Water, Earth, Air, Darkness, and Light. Each chapter consisted of the element, its back ground, how to wield it, warnings as to why one should be careful with it, and how to respect each element. The chapter on Darkness was significantly longer than the others, consisting of various warnings about the dangers of consumption and why darkness must not ever be practiced.

As intrigued by the element as I was, I decided to heed the books warnings. I was going to be a daredevil, sure enough, But not so far as to I would literally get myself killed. It was dangerous work. I had to take it delicately. As I began practicing the runes, writing them down on a sheet of paper, the bell tolled again. Glancing at my schedule, I sighed. I loved school, but science was one of my least favorite of all the subjects I had studied throughout school, and Chemistry was the worst of the worst.

I was seated in the middle of a class room, again, by the window. I didn't feel as uneasy, however. I hadn't been approached by anyone, but I also hadn't been denounced. I hated to admit it, but the chatter around me was becoming soothing. I felt like a wallflower, watching others around me enjoy their day, laughing and cracking jokes and giving each other high fives. Everybody seemed to be friends. Which made me the one who stood out, because I wasn't speaking to anyone.

I had found a hobby to partake. My next mission would be much more difficult-make a friend. But this was the area I would have no prowess in. I wasn't sure what to do. I always avoided-

"Excuse me?"

Startled, I looked up to see a fair looking girl with a soft smile looking straight at me.

"Huh? Can I help you?"

Her blond hair was parted to one side, and her eyes were bright and open sea-blue. Not quite like the eyes of the boy I had seen earlier, but still blue. Her skin was spotless and clear, but she didn't look disheveling or mischievous, like the jock from earlier did. She smiled lightly at me.

"I was just wondering if…anyone was sitting next to you?"

"Oh!" I was shocked. I didn't need to make the first move, for once. "No, no one."

I gave her what I hoped was an encouraging smile and motioned to the seat next to me. "You can sit here."

She looked as though she breathed a sigh of relief-I couldn't be sure. But I felt connected to her. She was more like me. Shy. Probably not the same way I was. I had my own reasons. But still.

"My names Alaska."

That was surprising. There I was, taking charge, which was an incredible difference.

"I'm Namine. It's nice to meet you. Are you new?" She pulled out her own notebook, two neatly set pencils and a sketch book. She looked at me expectantly.

"I am, yeah," I wanted to test my words out. It wasn't often I could speak to anyone. "My mom and I moved here from Destiny Islands."

"Really?!"

It wasn't her voice that spoke. A boy our age piped up from behind us, and I turned to meet the exact same cerulean eyes as I had first met before. I immediately, and to my dismay, blushed. But these eyes belong to a different, even more open face that the boy from before. This boy was brunette, with longer, spiky hair. It must take forever to gel in the morning. He was adorable, to put it simply. But he was still a boy. And I had absolutely no experience with his species. I gave him a nod, enough to acknowledge him, but not fully engage him in our conversation. He didn't seem to take the hint.

"I lived there too! As a matter of fact, I played tennis there."

He grinned, totally proud of his achievements. Leaning back in his seat, he rested one shoed foot on the bar of his desk and relaxed his head in his hands, shooting me a huge grin.

I simply blinked again. "Tennis?"

I had watched the tennis team practice for hours on end from my perch in a huge Paopu fruit tree while I did my homework. It wasn't because I was a stalker or anything. The courtyard was right next to my home and tree, so naturally I watched everything that happened around me.

Needless to say, that's where I recognized him from. I had seen him so many times, and never regarded him as more than a being swinging a racket around, hitting a ball over a net. Come to think of it, I hadn't seen his face in over two years, but there he was giving me a cheeky grin.

Weirdest day ever.

"Ever played it?" He eyed me expectantly.

I quickly shook my head, sighing. "Are you serious? I couldn't play a sport if it was handicapped."

He laughed, "Im sure that's not the case."

"No, seriously! I would hit everything _but _the ball," I laughed, despite myself. Was this what it was like to not feel so…I couldn't decide on the word.

"Im Sora."

He held a hand out to me, and I shook it. "Im Alaska De'Celine. Everyone,"-I paused, but only for a moment. I couldn't think of who would be included in 'everyone' besides my mother.-"calls me Ala."

Namine, who had started on a sketch, glanced over at me and smiled.

It seemed like something new was in the mist. Something budding, and something better.

I might have found the gateway to being accepted.


	3. Literature, Butterflies and Theatre

_Sorry that this update took so long! I had an AP exam and a term paper to complete. And you know…Procrastination issues…_

**Chapter 3: Literature, Butterflies and Everything Theatre**

Sora turned out to be a wiz kid in chemistry. To my sheer amazement, he and the professor-some middle aged bearded man-spent an extension of the class period discussing the likeness between the chemicals of light and dark power. There was that element again; Darkness. Apparently chemists weren't too fearful of that power. Nevertheless, I wasn't going to deliberately find a reason to mess with the element.

"You sure know a lot about all this science business," I muttered to Sora.

He grinned at me cheekily, leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed behind his head the way he seemed to often do.

"Sort of, I guess. You could say I know my way around the maze."

Namine ever so lightly scoffed. "Sora-your dads a scientist."

He sighed, and brought his chair back down on all fours as he leaned over his desk. He was an antsy teen, that I was certain. "Oh Nami. Way to spoil my secrecy."

"She would have found out anyways," Namine flicked her sketching pencil out in his direction. "He owns the laboratory on the outskirts of town."

I raised an eyebrow at him and he shrugged. "Please, my dads accomplishments really aren't all that. My cousins dads a lot cooler."

"But they're in two totally different fields of work! You cant judge them by that alone."

"I know. But we cant forget, Nami: My uncle is like a dad to me anyhow. My own father stays locked away almost all hours of the day."

In the exchange, I had been taking in the two. Namine expertly sliced her pencil across her sketch pad, never breaking conversation while never sketching a single mistake on her pad. I was intrigued by the way Soras jaw would ever so slightly quiver at the mention of his father, his eyes darkening a shade. His smile was still lighthearted and cheerful. I never knew my father. Or perhaps the better thought was, I knew him a little too well.

I mentally shook myself of it. No good could come from remembering a man like Thomas De'Celine, and I didn't have the pills handy to be able to deal with the thoughts.

"If only you were an English lover too, Sora, or you'd be top of the class like your cousin is."

Namine seemed to have struck a chord with Sora, and he playfully crumpled over his desk. The Bearded Teacher snapped at him and he jerked up again, causing kids behind us to snicker. He continued to whisper to us, ignoring the teasing by-listeners.

"Namine! You really had to bring that up? I suck at English." He slumped into the palm of his hand with a belated sigh, and Namine playfully rolled her eyes at him.

"Maybe if you did what Riku had told you to and got yourself a tutor, you wouldn't have that problem," She gave him a smile as she finished up the shading of some type of lopsided star-fruit tree on her paper.

This intrigued me. Sora, some one of grand valor in the chemistry classroom, was absolutely helpless at the mercy of standard English.

"But you _know _how Riku and I get when we get together on things, Nami. Were competitive monsters when it comes to anything we work towards. I wouldn't have learned anything."

Maybe it was the fact that he looked do helpless, or that I was so desperate for a personal connection with someone other than my mom that _I_ couldn't help myself. But the next words I spoke were, "Im great at English. I could tutor you."

Sora stared at me dumbfounded. "You would do that?"

I hesitated, but gave him a nod after a moment. "I would." The trade came quickly to me. "But in return, you have to help me with Chemistry."

"An ultimatum!" He gave me a bright grin. "You know what? I think that would be great."

Giving him a more gentle smile, I laughed. "Well, good."

At the end of class, Namine, Sora and I scooped up our packs and pencils and wandered into the hallway. Namine nodded calmly as Sora chattered excitedly about everything and anything. I was enjoying their company, and the fact that they were polar opposites from each other. It was nice to see interactions between the two. It wasn't like they were in love. More like they were brother and sister, and had grown up together. Especially when a flurry of soft red hair swiftly appeared and nearly slammed into Sora, cocooning herself into his frame. "Sora!"

She had violet eyes and a clear complexion, her hair a softly lit red flame. It wasn't an obnoxious color, like the color of the soccer jocks friends hair. It was softer, and it fell in a straight waterfall down to her shoulders. I wasn't sure if I would be fond of her or not, but first impressions were sometimes difficult. I decided to give her the benefit of the doubt.

"Its been a pretty good day so far. We already are discussing dissection in Biology, which is kind of awkward and really gross, but whatever. Kind of makes me not want to eat lunch. Especially since that one time when Jessie found a live treefrog hopping around in her salad one time last Spring. And speaking of frogs, do frog legs really taste like chicken? You've got to wonder how someone came up with that assumption, especially since frogs are frogs and chickens are chickens. Sometimes I consider being a vegetarian, but…"

It went on like this as we trekked through the hallways. I gathered that her name was Kairi, and she was close friends with Namine, Soras cousin (who still hadn't been named) and was actually Soras long term girl friend. She was on fire, a chatterbox. Someone who I could be totally quiet around, never have to say a word, and she would still be perfectly content within her own self. An amazing talent if anyone ever had one.

I still wasn't sure I liked her, but at least I wouldn't have to try.

"Earth to Alaska?"

I glanced at Namine, who was raising an eyebrow at me, again lightly. It seemed everything she did was light. Her laughs were bright and airy, her pencils slipped across pages as if they hadn't grazed them at all. It was an amazing and gentle thing about her. I definitely liked her.

"Sorry, I was thinking. Go on?"

"I was asking what you had next." She and the others eyed me expectantly. Blushing fiercely, I fished into my strap bag and pulled my schedule from it.

"Well," I scanned the orange slip of paper and shifted my footing uncomfortably. "…Drama."

Oh God.

In that one split second, I shuttered and felt as if my inner self was convulsing. Theater classes of any kind would mean individuality, speaking out, and acting. It was basically a fourth calling for making an absolute fool of myself in ways I would have never experienced before, and I was being forced into the ridiculous ritual of individualism by hand of chance. In that one millisecond, I came to the realization that I was going to socially die.

"Oh! My cousin has that class to. You'd like him, he's theatrical at heart."

That one millisecond hadn't been realized by any of my newfound friends as we walked the hallways. I would have to suffer this alone.

I joined in the inanimate chatter until Namine pointed me to the auditorium door and I parted ways with them. My heart swelled in that way a heart does when its brain tells it its nervous, and I laced my fingers together tightly as I slipped through the door into the huge, dimly lit room. The only place that produced light in the steep vastness was the gigantic stage, an intimidating mass of mahogany wood and curtains like teeth as they opened up to swallow stage-fright with its claustrophobic grin.

Keeping my head down, I rushed for a seat away from the other students who were piling into the room. If it hadn't been for how terrified I was, the lights and the stage and the people might just be serene. But they weren't serene; they were terrifying, and I was alone. I kept my head low, not bothering to meet eyes with anyone who might glance my way. I didn't even look up when the instructor sauntered into the room, immediately giving his flourish of an introduction and slamming us right into our first assignment. I prayed to melt into the seat I rested in, to somehow disappear from his sights so he wouldn't address my existence.

"This year, class, its about expression." The directors' voice was male, strong and sure of himself. The opposite of me. "Its going to be the struggle of finding yourself, and finding your passion. Now, I've already taken the liberty of assigning you all into groups, since we have such a nice sized class this year. We're going to jump right into this first project. You're all going to group up as assigned and pick out a few scenes from your choice of a play or musical. Your going to set up your scenes, rehearse them, and perform them over the course of the next two weeks. When you come to me with your selected scene, I will cast you as the characters in the scene so there isn't a ruckus over who does what. Your scenes are due at the end of the period."

He began to list last names he had grouped, and as time went by in the seconds I truly thought he had forgotten to include me.

"Axel F. Jefferson, Alaska M. De'Celine, and Roxas D. Allen."

I jerked up and caught sight of a flash of blond hair, spiked up. That's when the blue eyes and the familiar butterfly wing eyelashes clicked. Roxas, the soccer jock I hated from first period, was my new friend Soras' cousin. And he was in my group for my first theater project.

Well, hell.


End file.
